The Dragons Return

by J. J. Thompson

The island was wider to the east and west, more oval than round in shape. Aeris had been right. There were a few stunted trees and some bushes but that was about it. Certainly there was no cover if anyone wanted to hide from the dragon. But then again, they weren't here to hide, were they?

  “How big would you say this place is?” Simon asked the elemental.

  Aeris rose up a dozen feet and spun slowly in a circle. Then he dropped back down to shoulder height.

  “Perhaps a hundred feet from north to south and twice that in width.”

  “And exactly how big is the dragon, I wonder,” Simon said to himself.

  “At least that big,” Aeris replied unexpectedly.

  “What?”

  “I said at least that big.”

  Aeris seemed surprise by Simon's shocked look.

  “Well, how big did you think the beast was?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. When it flew over the tower a few months ago, I guessed about the size of an airplane.”

  “Airplane?”

  “It was a machine that people used to fly in, to get from one place to another.”

  “Did they?” Aeris sounded dubious. “Sounds dangerous to me.”

  “Fairly safe to travel in, actually. But forget that. Two hundred feet long? Really?”

  “Well, that's counting the tail, of course.”

  “Of course,” Simon replied weakly. “Mustn't forget the tail.”

  He turned away and walked to the southern side of the island. Squinting against the bright sunlight shining off of the water, Simon tried to see if he could spot any movement in the trees along the shore. Kronk and the other earthen should be in there somewhere, building the rafts.

  But the shore was too distant to make out any details and he finally gave up and turned back to stare at the island.

  He imagined what it would be like facing the dragon. Five days, that's how long he had to prepare. Five little days.

  Simon walked to where he thought the center of the island was, Aeris following silently. He stood there and then turned to the north.

  The land rose beyond the distant shoreline to what used to be called the Gatineau Hills. They only rose a few hundred feet but once upon a time they had been popular for winter skiers and summer hikers.

  And now they were the edge of the dragon's lair.

  Simon tried to see how it might go during the battle.

  He would set the lighthouse on fire in the gathering dusk as soon as he spotted the dragon making its way back from wherever it went during its forays. With luck, the monster would turn toward the island and fly straight at them.

  At me, he thought and shivered.

  The elves and Clara's archers would be on the rafts tethered around the island. They would attack as soon at the creature came into range. Virginia and her friends would be with Simon, along with Clara. Once the dragon was close enough, he'd cast Ice Storm. It seemed like the best spell to open the battle with.

  With luck, it would slow down the beast enough for the archers to wound the beast. Simon could only guess, but he assumed that a dragon's most vulnerable spot would be its eyes. If they could blind it, their chances of winning would be much greater.

  And what if it just stays out of range and rakes the island with dragon fire, said that insufferable little voice inside of him.

  Well, that was what Virginia's group was for. Their shield might save them from the fire, at least once. Or not. He had no way to know how powerful it was.

  And then? And then he didn't know.

  Simon walked back to the north side of the island and looked at the far hills again.

  You can't plan for something like this. He had an idea. A stupid, risky, probably insane idea, if they began to lose. He kept it tucked away in the deepest recesses of his mind because, when he thought about it, it scared him so badly that he became nauseous.

  Best not to consider it, at least for now. It was only based on a theory about the dragon's supposed weakness, after all. They might actually win in a straight-up fight. He could only hope so.

  “All right, Aeris,” he said. “I'm ready to go back now.”

  “As am I. It's a rather depressing little spot, isn't it?”

  “I agree. But we'll be back in a few days and I doubt that we'll even notice then.”

  Aeris nodded silently, floated up to rest on Simon's shoulder and held on as the wizard Gated them home. They were both in a sombre mood for some time after their return.

  Just before dark, Kronk tapped back into the tower wearing a wide grin. Simon was reading a book he'd saved from the old days; a book on dragons.

  “Master, I'm back,” the little earthen called out as he slipped through the door.

  “I can see that,” Simon said with a grin as he looked up from where he was sitting on the couch. Candles burned on the end tables at both sides of the sofa and, inevitably, the wizard was drinking tea.

  “What news, my friend?” he asked as the elemental hopped up on the couch. “How did your day go?”

  “Very well, master. We built your rafts as you asked. I'm afraid that we made them a little larger than you had requested.”

  Kronk watched him anxiously.

  “Really? Hmm. How much bigger?”

  “About twenty feet square, instead of twelve. If they have to hold archers, the fighters will need room to move. We discussed it and decided that bigger was better in this case. I hope you aren't too disappointed.”

  Simon had to smile at Kronk's plaintive tone.

  “Of course not. That was good thinking on your part. I suppose I was thinking of the minimum size needed. And during battle, those archers will need to adjust their positions and reload and whatever. Thanks, my friend. I think you saved me from looking foolish, at the very least.”

  Kronk looked relieved.

  “My pleasure, master. The chains and anchors are attached as well. The rafts wait within the forest near the shore. My earthen brethren and I will carry them to the water on the day of battle.” The little guy smiled a little as he peered up at Simon. “And each raft has two paddles so that the rafts can be floated into position.”

  “Paddles?” Simon clapped a hand to his brow. “Of course! Paddles. I can't believe that I forgot that. Thanks again, Kronk. It would have looked pretty stupid to have rafts sitting on the shore and not have a way to move the darned things.”

  “So we thought, master.”

  Kronk climbed to the arm of the couch next to Simon and looked down at the book he was reading.

  “Dragons, master? You have a book on dragons?”

  The wizard looked down at the illustration in the book on his lap. It was a painting of two dragons fighting each other in mid-air. One was golden, the other silver. Fire filled the sky.

  “Fantasy dragons, Kronk. The writers were quoting from legend and, I think, making stuff up as they went along. I doubt if it will be very helpful against a real dragon.”

  He flipped through the large pages slowly. The pictures were amazing, but some of the 'facts' were laughable.

  “Listen to this,” Simon told Kronk and began to read aloud.

  “Dragons have thick armor, which is why knights always attack from below. Their belly scales are thin and vulnerable and are the best target in a battle. Their eyes are also a weak point, but are difficult to damage due to the horny brows that surround them.”

  Simon snorted a laugh.

  “Horny brows. Oh please,” he said to Kronk with a grin and continued to read.

  “Dragons are ranked by their colors. Evil wyrms range from gray to black to white. Good dragons shine like metal, brass being the smallest and weakest and platinum the strongest.”

  Simon frowned.

  “You know, we could really use one of those metal guys right about now.”

  “They no longer exist, master,” Kronk reminded him gently.

  “I know, I know. Just wishing out loud.”

  Simon read quietly for a few more minutes and then sat
up with a jerk.

  He stared at the book intently and then looked at Kronk with wide eyes.

  “Maybe these guys knew more than I gave them credit for. Listen. 'Every dragon can breathe flame, but each also has its own special attack. The white dragons attack with a killing frost, while green wyrms can belch forth clouds of deadly poison.'” His voice became more emphatic. “'The black dragons are masters of lightning and hurl bolts of electricity at their foes.'”

  “Lightning, master? I didn't know that.”

  Kronk looked at the small picture that Simon was tapping with a forefinger. It was a sketch of a dragon smashing a group of armored men with a storm of lightning bolts.

  “So that's why it can't stand water,” Simon said with wonder. “If it became wet enough, the monster would short out, like dropping a toaster into a tub of water.”

  Kronk looked puzzled.

  “What is a toaster, master?” he asked curiously.

  “What?” Simon blinked several times as he stared at the little guy and then chuckled. “Sorry, bad reference. It was an old invention we used to use back when technology actually still worked. My point is, if we could somehow dunk that damned thing into the river, we could destroy it. So I was right,” he added under his breath.

  “But surely, master, the dragon knows that? I suppose as a dragon it burns too hot to be bothered by rain, but it has to know that a lot of water is deadly.”

  Simon stared at the picture for another long moment and then closed the book and tossed it on to the couch.

  “Yes, I'm sure it does. So I guess I'll have to do something really stupid if I want to trick it into taking a swim.”

  He stood up and went to the door. He looked out across the yard and caught a glimpse of Aeris flying along the wall for no reason that he could think of. The air elemental shone vaguely against the darkening sky. Kronk tapped over and stood next to him.

  “Aeris is checking the wards, master,” the earthen remarked. “He worries.”

  “Yeah. He's not the only one.”

  “What stupid thing will you have to do to trick the dragon, master?”

  Simon looked down at his little friend and then out at the yard again. He sighed.

  “I'm going to have to make it angry,” he said simply.

  The next few days were busy ones. Simon spoke to Clara who reassured him that they would be ready on the day and would meet on the shore across from the island. She had a map of the region thanks to a sketch that Simon had sent her via Aeris.

  “And we have a surprise for you, Simon,” she told him with a teasing laugh.

  The wizard was standing on the wall that morning, watching the dawning sun climbing over the forest. He wasn't sleeping well now. Dreams of flames and screaming people filled his nights.

  “A surprise?” he said wearily to the distant cleric. “What kind of surprise?”

  “Ah now, Simon, why spoil it? It's only a chance, after all. If it doesn't pan out, I won't bring it up again.”

  She became serious again.

  “So, fifty elven archers and ten bowmen from my own people. A goodly number. The rafts were a stroke of genius, by the way.”

  “Maybe. Remind your fighters that water conducts electricity. If that creature does attack with lightning, the water is the last place they want to be.”

  “I'm sure the river is too large to carry an electrical charge very far, my friend. Don't worry about more than you need to. So, sixty archers, a cleric, a wizard and the four Changlings to cover us, hopefully.”

  “Yeah, doesn't sound that impressive, does it?” Simon stated flatly.

  “True. But there's a chance that the elementals will send help. And, of course, there's my possible surprise. Cheer up, Simon. I think we have a decent chance. But I'm relieved that tomorrow is the day. Fears grow over time and my people are getting a little skittish the longer they wait.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  Simon watched the sun rise and wondered if it was to be his last peaceful day on Earth.

  “Try to get some rest, Simon,” Clara said gently. “And be of good cheer. This confrontation was inevitable. At least we'll meet the beast on our own terms.”

  “That's our one advantage, I suppose. Okay, Clara. We'll meet tomorrow before dusk. You get some rest as well.”

  And with that, he canceled the Magic Mouth spell and rested his hands on the chilly smooth stone of the wall and watched the day begin.

  Later that morning, Simon was sitting in his study reading his spell-book when Aeris floated in through the window. The air elemental flew over to the top of his desk and glanced at the book.

  “Why study that thing, Simon?” he asked. “You now have all the spells you need packed into your brain.”

  “Yes, I know. But I was reading something earlier, a book on folklore and I had an idea. I guess I'm going through this dog-eared old thing to remind myself how this all started. And the successes I've had with it.”

  “What successes?”

  Simon finally looked up from the book.

  “You and Kronk, mainly,” he said with a tired smile.

  Aeris grinned in response.

  “And mighty successes they were too. The apex of your wizardly powers, I'd say.”

  Simon had to laugh at that.

  “Yes, I suppose you would.”

  He sat back with a sigh and stretched his arms over his head.

  “Since we have one more day of peace, could I ask you to do a last scout of the island? I'm sure that nothing has changed, but I think I need some reassurance on that score.”

  Aeris rolled his eyes.

  “Seems like a waste of time to me, my dear wizard, but I must admit that I'm at loose ends right now. So, certainly I'll check it out. It will give me something to do.”

  “Thanks, Aeris. Take your time. There's no hurry. I'm just, I don't know, twitchy right now.”

  “Fine, fine. I'll be back in an hour or two.” Aeris floated across the room. “Enjoy your reading,” he added with a sardonic smile and then disappeared through the open window.

  Simon watched him leave and waited a moment to make sure that he was gone. He'd sent Kronk on his own mission. He had him checking to make sure that the rafts were secure and that there were no loose fastenings or anything that would endanger the archers the next day.

  Both missions were just wild goose chases, of course. Simon wanted some privacy to try something. It could turn out to be a good idea, or it might be a really stupid move. But these were desperate times and he had no choice but to gather what allies he could.

  He'd told Aeris the truth, or at least part of it. He had been reading a book on myth and folklore and had come across an interesting story concerning river sprites. The descriptions of the sprites had sounded awfully familiar and that was when he'd had his mad idea.

  Now it was time to test it out.

  Simon got up and walked quickly to the window. He took a quick look across the yard and then hurried toward the stairs. A minute later, he was standing in the basement.

  He moved some boxes aside to reveal the canvas-wrapped staff. Taking a deep breath, and ignoring his inner voice who was telling him just how bad an idea this was, Simon picked it up.

  The staff moved inside its wrappings and he shuddered, as if he'd just picked up a serpent that slithered under his hand.

  Back in his study, Simon put the staff on his table. He carefully unwrapped it and then watched it distrustfully.

  “Okay,” he said to it. “I think I understand you. You want to channel magic and be useful, but you need a wizard to do it. I need a conduit for my power and you're the best I've got. But we have to come to an understanding.”

  He sat down and leaned forward on his elbows. The staff had begun to glow gently in the morning sunlight.

  “You know my name and that gives you power over me. I know that now. But I know yours too, Bene-Dunn-Gal.”

  The staff quivered along its length at the sound of its nam
e.

  “Yes, I know it. So here's the deal.”

  Simon still hadn't touched the staff itself and in his mind he could almost hear its siren call. But he resisted that temptation.

  “I need help tomorrow in a fight against a dragon. You want to be useful, right? Sure you do. So, you help me and I'll keep you with me. We'll go forward together into this crazy new world. But if you attempt to control me again, even subtly, I will have my friend Kronk bury you so deep, you will never see the light of day again.”

  And now the light faded from the staff and it became no more than a length of wood and metal.

  “I'm betting you can read me enough to know that I speak the truth,” Simon told it. He wondered briefly how weird it must look, a man talking earnestly with a piece of wood. But this thing was more than that. Much more.

  “So what's your answer? Do we have deal or not? Remember, my friends will be watching for any change in my demeanor. One slip and you are gone.”

  There was a moment of silence and then the staff burst into golden light. A hum, too low to hear, made the desk vibrate.

  “Very well then.”

  Simon picked up the staff and, as his hand touched its surface, a rush of warmth flowed up his arm and settled in his chest.

  “Carefully, Bene-Dunn-Gal. Slowly now. Don't make me regret my choice.”

  Simon felt a sense of joy emanating from the weapon and smiled slightly.

  I don't trust it, he thought. Not at all.

  He stood up and moved to the center of the room.

  “All right. Our first chore together is to try to find one last ally. I have an idea, but I need you to help boost my power.”

  The spell he needed popped into his mind with no effort at all, but he opened the spell-book anyway and skimmed through it until he found the original incantation.

  And to think, the spell began with a jumbled mess of words that somehow summoned his little friend, Kronk.

  Simon managed a shaky smile and then, taking a deep breath, began to cast the spell.

  Several hours later, he was puttering around the kitchen, whistling a bit under his breath as he made his dinner.

  Kronk tapped into the room with Aeris floating along behind him.

  “We're back, master,” Kronk called out.